It’s the sound of a warm hug from a childhood friend. The one you haven’t talked to in years but you cannot seem to fully let go of.
Ohh to share just one more wholesome meal with them and reminisce about the good olds days.
Jan 11, 2025
Related Recs
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a couple months ago I'm out behind the gabled house with dregs of home still seeping through its edges, a sharp sort of newness ripping the seams of who I am & who I was, sweaty fingers slipping from between each other with the bloodied grasp of desperation - it is a spring day, and I am here again. the leaves are new and the blinking infant furled in the strands of my chest takes a breath and every time I trudge through these vine-ridden woods I feel her grubby hands trace the creases in my ribcage. there are ghosts here, the soulmate-friend across the ocean and I and the way we'd take axes to the already-fallen trees like our anger was spraying away with the bark and we were left with only breeze. there are the phantoms of our hands stuck in the mud, ripped leaves beneath our fingernails as we unclogged the flow of the creek and watched the water dig its trenches deeper, and now i'm watching it capture the light of a new year in my hometown alone. through the leaves and over the tinny chorus of water-on-rock I hear the echoes of a mother calling to her children in a game of hide-and-seek, her children laughing, the clamor of it like a memory captured on tape and played back. there is a hole here, radio waves rippling through years folded back and punched through, I a bystander to the reminiscence of a stranger years down the line when some part of that laughter will be lost. it is here. it is here now, in the backyard of a house I sometimes call home.
2d ago
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The sound falls away
and there we are, impressions
of one another
4d ago
In my most vulnerable moments (intoxicated, 3am, on an airplane, etc.), I remember all of my “love you”s; each person I’ve held tenderly in my heart and body; each friend I’ve shared late nights and soul secrets with. Do they know that they still hold a piece of me, that I still hold a piece of them? Do they know that the hum of a song, or the smell of backwoods, or the words on a page conjure their being in my mind? Do they know how often I think of them, how often I jog my mind back a few months or years to our casual and frequent visits? Our traditions? What comes of these faded soul ties; do I fumble with the frays and let go? Do I memorialize them in some kind of journal, a photo, an occasional phone call? How do I say goodbye to all of my ”love you”s?
Jan 4, 2025
Top Recs from @tennyyyy
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Impulsively bought a harmonica to learn piano man- I’ll tell yall how it goes.
Can’t wait to bust it out at Kareoke night 🕺🏽
2025 is the year of doing everything I want 🙂↕️
Jan 11, 2025